Winner of the Best Director Award in 2019 for his debut feature Curtiz, and a member of the international jury in 2023, Hungarian director Tamás Topolánszky returned for the third time this year to the Riviera International Film Festival in Sestri Levante for the international premiere of his documentary Spring Wind – The Awakening, which chronicles the rise of newly elected Hungarian prime minister Péter Magyar. The film opened the festival’s 10th edition, attended by Magyar himself, and we took the opportunity to speak with Topolánszky and producer Claudia Sümeghy.

Cineuropa: What was the initial impetus behind the film?
Tamás Topolánszky: The idea came when I saw Péter, already a member of the European Parliament, confront Viktor Orbán in the chamber and force him into a handshake, telling him: “Mr President, we both know it’s over.” It felt like a Shakespearean moment — not just a gesture between two men, but between a leader and an entire nation. That was when I asked Claudia whether we should turn it into a documentary. At the time, we assumed several crews were already following him, but we turned out to be the first. When we initially approached Péter’s team, we did not know anyone within the party. We proposed a fully independent, self-financed documentary, on the condition that we would be granted complete access and transparency. They agreed, and that access ultimately made the film possible.

How did you approach the storytelling of this awakening?
Claudia Sümeghy: Very early on, Tamás realised that the story naturally mirrored the structure of a fiction film. It followed what is known as Dan Harmon’s story circle: first comes the moment when the hero begins his journey, within his comfort zone. Then something unexpected happens — the inciting incident. Then come the first plot point, the midpoint, the second plot point, and so on. It was striking to see just how dramatic the story already was in real life. That is why the documentary goes beyond purely observational filmmaking. Tamás comes primarily from fiction cinema, and he brought that sensibility to the project through the music, cinematography and emotional rhythm. The intention was never to document every single moment, but rather to carefully select the elements capable of conveying the emotional and political stakes of the story.

Some viewers may interpret the film as propaganda. You have clarified that, at most, it could be described as “a propaganda film of hope”.
TT: We would have been foolish to risk our own money on making propaganda instead of revealing something systematically concealed by the state media. The objective was to capture the zeitgeist of these past two years and bring it to people — particularly in the countryside — who receive information almost exclusively through state television. At the same time, we present a three-dimensional portrait of Péter, and that portrait does not consist solely of flattering aspects. We see that he can be a very difficult character. I think this is precisely what audiences — and voters too — have responded to: this is not an act. They saw someone who genuinely cares about the country and wants to involve people in a broader vision of change. So I reject the term “propaganda”, especially considering the aggressive political propaganda Hungary has experienced in recent years. Ordinary citizens who opposed the system were routinely targeted. Compared with that machinery, this film is something entirely different. If anything, it is propaganda for the idea that change remains possible.

The documentary reached millions of viewers shortly before the election. How significant do you think its impact was on Magyar’s victory?
TT: The production was carried out in complete secrecy with a very small crew. Nobody — not even within the industry — knew the film existed. When it was released, fewer than half of Hungarian cinemas agreed to screen it, largely out of fear or self-censorship. Despite that, it still reached a record 140,000 admissions. However, many viewers, particularly those living far from participating cinemas, had no realistic access to the film. We therefore decided to release it online for just over 48 hours during the Easter weekend. In that period alone, 3.4 million people watched it. What struck us most was not simply the positive response, but the sense of gratitude expressed by viewers. As filmmakers, that is extraordinary. We can only hope the documentary contributed, even in a small way, to the political shift currently taking place in Hungary.

You announced that 11% of the film’s net production proceeds will be allocated to child protection. Why did you make that decision?
CS: In recent years, political communication in Hungary has created a number of troubling situations, with billboards and campaigns built around fear and division, including messages that have heightened anxiety about war among children. The film also touches on issues linked to the child welfare system, emerging in the context of the scandal it portrays [the pardon granted by the Hungarian president in 2024 in a paedophilia case, ed.]. For us, everything begins with children: they are the most vulnerable part of society, but also the most important. Supporting their safety and well-being is essential to the future of society as a whole.

Spring Wind – The Awakening ends just before the elections, and now Péter Magyar is the new Hungarian prime minister: his story continues. Will there be a follow-up to the film?
TT: Yes. There will be.